Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

SKYLAR

" I told you. Google never lies."

Rhylan shot me a look. "Google always lies. It said I bought a Whole Foods Market once because they refused to carry my favorite salsa two months ago."

"Do you Google yourself, Rhylan Morgan?" I asked, giggling. No, not me. The Falling Leaves giggled. I glared. Rhylan Morgan did not get my giggles solely based on my insight alone. I foolishly allowed the bourbon to have a vote, then it convinced me that giggling was a wise choice.

He shook his head. "My cousin Natasha likes to send me links to the craziest shit she can find about me. She lives in LA and gets a kick out of it." I handed her another shot. "And it'll go back online. Just wait."

"Why don't you go out and see if you can get to work?"

"No fucking way am I going out in that," he said and hooked his thumb toward the doors. Outside, the howling wind continued to rage as the rain came down.

I stood. "Let's go take a peek. You said it yourself. It's not a direct landfall and barely a category two." As I did, my notebook fell from my lap, and Rhylan reached down before I could grab it from him.

It opened right to the damn ‘F It List' Ainsley inspired me to write. My cheeks heated. "Thank you," I said, reaching for it, but damn them asshole, he already started reading it. "Stop, give me it. Now."

Rhylan's eyes darkened as he read down the list, easily keeping it from me. "Seems like we need to check at least two off, little Swallow."

Shit.

Number Five. Come using a toy while someone watches or listens.

Number Seven. His hand around my neck again and not let him stop until I come like I did in the hallway.

The buzz wasn't wearing off; if anything, knowing what I wrote on that list, and who I wanted to check off at least some, if not all, of the Fuck-It-List activities made me either want to run and hide or beg Rhylan Morgan to finish what he started.

"I'm going out to see if I can-"

His arm snaked around my waist before I could make it to the door as he spun me around until we were face to face. "I thought the hurricane scared you, Swallow." His breath mingled with mine, warmed by the bourbon and the cinnamon gum he'd been chewing, mixed with whatever he must've used in the shower earlier.

The chiseled lines of his chest through his shirt under my hand and my body pressed against his naughty and delicious in a way I'd been dreaming of ever since that night in the darkened hallway. When he told me he owned me. Not once had he brought up my contract, or his label, or anything other than writing songs. His hand crept up, inching closer to where I desperately wanted it. Heat shot to my pussy, and my lips parted.

"They do," I said, my voice sounding breathless and needy to my ears. I swallowed, the desire coursing through my veins heady and insistent. "But sometimes the things that scare us are what make us feel alive." Rhylan's hand continued its upward ascent, closer and closer until I couldn't take it anymore and let out a frustrated whimper.

"What do you need, little Swallow? Tell me," he rubbed his nose along mine, "and I'll give it to you. This list? I'll check every damn thing off you want to try."

I fought a war on the inside between the part that needed his hand gripping my neck, controlling my breath, and the part that still hated how he said he owned me.

But did he feel that way? Or was it years of being treated like a commodity instead of an artist at the hands of the record label I signed with?

His eyes bore into mine, hand closing in on what I wanted. "Say it, little songbird. Tell me how you want me to steal your breath. Because you fucking own my heart and soul."

His words shot straight to the places inside that needed him. Touch him. To have him control my body and take what he wanted. What I wanted to give.

"Touch me like you did then," I pleaded, no longer giving a fuck if it was me or the bourbon speaking. I knew he listened outside my bedroom door today while I made myself come using one of the toys I'd sent to his house. That I'd sent to him. "Please, Rhylan."

He growled, and as his hand encircled my neck, my eyes rolled back in pleasure. The potent memories of how I shamelessly came on his thigh and how good it felt shot to my clit. Fuck, I wanted to ride him again. I opened my eyes. The melting of every part of my body while he did things to me just by doing what I asked caused my legs to tremble. The effort to stay upright, to not lose this connection between us, washed over me. His hand reached beneath my dress to the lace panties I changed out of my boy shorts earlier, soaked from how he played my body with a touch.

"Fuck, little songbird. I knew if I touched you, you'd be wet. But, you have to ask me. I told you I wouldn't touch you unless you asked. I need to know you want this, too."

He loosened his grip on me and I sucked in a greedy breath. There in the dark with only candles lighting up the night, I begged Rhylan Morgan, the man I swore I would never fall for, to check off something on my list.

"Fuck me in the rain, Rhylan. Touch me, and take me. I need you. Please. I haven't been with anyone for a long time, and I'm on the pill. I need-" I gasped as he reached behind me and smacked my ass.

His thumb looped around the string and pulled until the material of the panty gave away. With a growl, he traced along my slit. "So fucking wet. You're going to take my cock so well, aren't you? While I fuck you in the rain? Never let it be said I don't make sure you get what you want. Skylar. I'll always give you what you want." His finger pushed inside my pussy, and my thighs clenched together as he crooked his finger, hitting my g-spot. Then, just as fast, he left me wanting more. I whimpered as he brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. "Fuck. All I thought about outside your door while you got yourself off was how you would taste." He spun me around and smacked my ass. "Outside. Now."

Not caring anymore about anything but having him inside me, I stumbled to the sliding glass door, the outside spot more of a hidden alcove, partly under the house. The rest of the courtyard dimly lit by emergency lights. All the outdoor furniture gone, put away. The rain fell in sheets. Here, the house shielded our bodies, so the wind was tolerable. Rhylan put my hands on the stone counter that overlooked the ocean, though the night was so black I could barely make out anything. He shoved my dress above my waist. "I hate that I can't see you more of you, but you're so fucking wet. My cock is going to take your pussy like it was made for me. Because it is."

I felt the soft fabric of his pants against the back of my thigh just before he pushed his cock little by little inside me. Rain soaked out bodies, the wind and rain a cacophony of sound as he buried himself inside my body. The stretch and burn and I adjusted to his size, a delicious contrast to his hand at my hip. Steadying me. Remind me he was right here with me. He leaned over, licked my ear and growled, "I believe this one said you wanted to be fucked in the rain with abandon?"

I nodded, unable to speak as he moved inside me. Each stroke of his cock touching a place inside my body that had my orgasm building. I moaned, screamed, and yelled as his thrust became more and more rough and demanding. My ass pushed back to meet him, the pleasure building until I couldn't take anymore. He reached around and pulled me back, flush against his front. Hand at the place I begged for earlier and squeezed with just enough pressure. His body pumped into mine, but I was falling, trembling and sobbing in a mindless bliss. Hot spurts of his release as he growled and came inside me.

"How many of these should we check off, little songbird?"

And I knew then I was in danger of becoming lost in Rhylan Morgan. The man who said he owned me.

Which scared the hell out of me.